


Natural

by beastieboys



Series: What Regular People Do [5]
Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Car Sex, First Date, M/M, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 13:17:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5457806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beastieboys/pseuds/beastieboys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nathan takes Warren on their first date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Natural

**Author's Note:**

> I have returned, and this time with over 5,000 words of GrahamScott goodness! That's two and a half times more than usual! (But don't always expect this, sorry!) Thank you to EVERYONE who left comments on my past fic and to everyone who contacted me on my [Nathan-dedicated tumblr](http://prettyboyprescott.tumblr.com/) telling me how much you've enjoyed this series so far! It means so much to me when I see a new notification because it tells me that people really like what I write and it inspires me to write more and better! I should be posting new works in this series more frequently than I have because the semester was ending and I was swamped! So thank you for your patience and support! And send some kind messages to my cool new editor, [kingsly](http://warrens.co.vu/)!

_"What?"_

Nathan pushes Warren away from him. He's gotta be joking, right? He knows this isn't a date. Warren grimaces, scratching the back of his neck with the hand the just jacked Nathan off with. The geek laughs nervously, filling the bathroom with echoes.

"This  _was_ a date, right?" asks Warren.

"No." Nathan replies, his voice stone cold. He shivers. Warren takes a step back towards the stall door.

"Of course it wasn't," Warren chuckles anxiously, "I'm just not--not good enough for you! That's all."

Nathan feels a pang in his heart. _What the fuck is up with all this shit going on in his heart lately?_ No, Warren knows what he's doing.

"Don't fuck me over like this." Nathan says. Warren's eyes travel to the grungy tile floor.

"How could you even think this was a date anyways? We didn't even eat caviar." Nathan says.

"Caviar?" Warren glances back up at Nathan's face.

"My father says no good date exists without caviar." Nathan explains, blushing when he realizes that makes him sound like _a fucking daddy's boy._

The corners of Warren's mouth curve upward. Nathan pushes Warren's face to the side with his, making the boy look rather fish-like. Warren grabs his hand and pulls it off his face and catches up on some breaths.

"Have you stuck to your dad's statement?" Warren asks, smirking. _Little shit._

"Haven't had the chance. A rich, mentally unstable boy doesn't attract as many suitors as you'd think. But I've always wanted to." Nathan says, the last phrase slipping from his mouth before he could stop it.

“Well, Mr. Prescott, is that an invitation?” Warren says, his demeanor becoming quite dapper. _What a gentleman._

“Wait, what?” Nathan asks, his eyes widening, “I didn’t--I’m not--”

Warren’s eyes hold their gaze right between Nathan’s own. His expression doesn’t even to shift to pleading and there aren’t any puppy dog eyes. It’s like he thinks he’s got Nathan wrapped around his finger. _He doesn’t._ (Yes he does).

“Can we get out of this bathroom?” Nathan asks, his heart racing. “It smells like shit.” he adds to make it look less like he wants to get out in the open where people will see them and Warren won’t be able to bring up fancy restaurants and dating and love.

Oh God, _LOVE._

Warren glares at him, obviously annoyed, but slips the lock on the stall anyways. He pulls on the handle and the door opens inward, forcing Warren to scoot right back into Nathan, squashing him between Warren and the toilet. Nathan loses his balance when Warren moves out of the stall and falls on the toilet seat.

“Shit!” he shouts, for if his ass had been an inch smaller, it might have sent him straight down into the wet abyss. Warren turns and reaches his arms out a second too late, as if that would help anyway, considering he had gone a foot outside of the stall.

Nathan pulls himself off the seat with weak arms and feels the back of his pants. They’re slightly damp. His nose wrinkles in disgust. Warren snorts.

"Fuck off." Nathan says and pushes past him to the sink to wash his hands.

Warren leans his chest against Nathan’s back and wraps his arms around Nathan's skinny torso. Warren lays his head on Nathan's shoulder, watching him through the mirror.

"Stop staring, you're making me forget how to turn the faucet on." Nathan says, his voice dripping with sarcasm, but in all honesty, the warmth of Warren's front against his back and the steady breaths on his shoulder are quite distracting.

Nathan's heartbeat increases in tempo when he makes eye contact with the boy holding him. He feels...comfortable. _Fuck it._

"Fine, you win, shithead." Nathan groans, turning the faucet off.

Warren grins and lets go of Nathan so he can get some paper towels.

"But we're not going now. I expect better attire than your shitty box cat shirt." Nathan says, walking towards the door.

"It's Schrodinger!" Warren replies, making Nathan roll his eyes.

Nathan leads Warren out of the bathroom with a hand. He doesn’t care what Chloe or Max or anyone else thinks of him, because, well, he can’t, can he? Not anymore, if they’re going to be...dating. The word itself sends shivers down Nathan’s spine and he rubs his fingers together, anxious. He doesn’t look at Joyce as she pours a policeman’s coffee. He doesn’t look at Max when she stops talking to Chloe to look at him. He almost wants to turn and say, “Take a picture if you’re so interested, bitch.” but he doesn’t, because he has a feeling if he did she actually would.

“I’m driving you back to the dorms and then you’re not gonna see me until it’s time for the date.” Nathan says to Warren as they climb into the truck.

Nathan starts the engine and pulls out of the parking lot.

“What? Why?” Warren replies, turning his head to look at Nathan, who keeps his eyes on the road.

“It’s not customary to see your date before the date.” Nathan grins, earning him a harsh shove that almost sends him running into the opposite side of the road.

“What? It’s another one of my dad’s rules.”

“And how is your mother, by the way?” Warren deadpans, making Nathan’s throat close up a bit.

When Nathan doesn’t reply, Warren takes two fingers and walks them along his door under the window. His leg is shaking. The radio crackles. Nathan turns a curve and pulls into the Prescott dorm parking lot. He wants to spit on the Prescott Dormitories sign. He has before. Victoria screamed a little because it almost hit her. God, that feels like centuries ago.

The truck parks and Nathan climbs out, Warren copying his actions on the other side.

“I’ll call you.” Nathan says, because dammit, maybe he wants it to sound like a fucking movie, okay? But come on, who doesn’t?

Warren snorts, “And you think _I’m_ the dork.”

Both Nathan and Warren walk in the same direction to the dorms and whoops, he should have used his “I’ll call you,” line earlier, because it’s super awkward until they separate once Warren checks into his room.

Nathan enters his own room, the darkness comforting after being in Warren’s light blue room and then outside and in the diner. Too much brightness. Too much happiness. He feels overwhelmed.

Nathan pulls off his jacket and shirts until he’s down to just a plain grey v neck. He walks over to his mirror and looks at himself. There’s too much of him, still, after all the pills and coffee and throwing up and burning more calories with sex than gaining back with eating -- he’s still got too much fat on him. He can feel it. Ugly, disgusting fat. He wishes he could just rip it out if him, like pulling the stuffing out of an old teddy bear. They’d patch him up, right? Like his mom used to spend countless nights trying to fix Truffle’s face. It was a little mangled afterward.

Maybe Warren will be good for him. Maybe Warren can sew him back together. _Fucking hell, he’s not a romantic novelist._ Warren won’t do that.

Nathan crawls into his bed at 11:04 pm and covers his head with his pillow, muffling the whale sounds and the buzz of his phone as it receives a message at promptly 11:11 as always.

The reservations were easy to make; Nathan called his father, who in turn called The Brevity in the next town over to make reservations. Nathan might have told him the date was with Victoria though. Sean always thought she was such a nice, pure girl. Gross.

It’s been four days since he’s seen Warren, which was not only a pain in the sense that he had to jack off by himself  what felt like a dozen times, but he had to work extra hard to avoid him during classes and in the halls. Nathan has no idea why he’s working so hard to preserve a tradition that his father probably created himself. He will admit, though, that the butterflies in his stomach that flutter as he slips cuff links on is well worth the wait.

The limo is waiting for him outside, he gets the text from Pierre, his driver. The sun is setting and light barely slips in through his blind covered window. It’s time. Nathan has his best suit on and a thin red tie tucked into the suit jacket. He pulls down on his suit jacket to straighten it up and runs his fingers through his hair one last time, just to make sure everything is ship shape. Nathan Prescott will not be known as the worst date ever; he has to be sure of it.

Even though Warren lives only a few doors down, the walk feels like decades. Nathan's hands are shaking. Each step on the floor startles him in the empty hallway. It's almost as if no one else exists. _It's just him and Warren, him and Warren, him and Warren._

Nathan knocks on the door thrice, and a moment later the door opens, and _holy shit._ Warren's just about as dressed up as Nathan, with a little blue bow tie neatly placed around his neck. Warren's hair is even gelled back out of his face a bit. Of course, Nathan didn't expect him to have a big name suit or anything, because not everyone is as rich as him, but the fact that Warren still cleans up so well without all the extra money and the fact that he really put _effort_ into it makes Nathan want to forget the date and drag him back into his room.

But he can't; this is a big event, this is the beginning of something new, something _better_ and he can't afford to screw it up so quickly. God, he should have gotten _roses._

"Are you ready, good sir?" Nathan asks, his voice falling into a posh tone so easily, almost as if he's been speaking posh talk for his entire life until he came to Blackwell or something.

"I am." Warren replies after a good ten seconds. _He was probably trying to come up with a clever reply. Fucker._

Nathan holds his arm out and Warren takes it. Together, they make their way into the parking lot where Pierre is waiting.

"Holy shit," Warren says when he sees the limousine, "you rented a limo?"

"Rented?" Nathan laughs in his posh voice, "This is my personal limo. I just don't use it very often."

He should probably cut that out before Warren starts to think he's been acting fake the whole time they've been doing it and that he's actually some snooty bastard with access to everything he wants. _Well, it's not like he isn't._

Nathan opens one of the furthest back doors of the car and waves Warren in. Once Warren is settled, he climbs in and joins him on the rounded seats.

Nathan doesn't really think much of his limo anymore ever since he got his pickup ("I can't go to the diner in a _limo,_ dad"), but with the way Warren's looking around, he knows that it might be a little over-the-top. Nathan's chest tightens. He might have went too far with all this fancy stuff already, they haven't even gotten to the restaurant yet, and it might be scaring Warren off or making him feel inferior or something. _Oh God, what if it is? What if this is too far or Warren wants to split the check but can't, oh God, oh God..._

Nathan's fingers start twitching and his breathing speeds up. _Not now, not now!_

"Nate, you okay?" Warren asks, tearing his eyes away from the TV to look at him.

"Is this too much? Are you overwhelmed? I'm sorry if I'm flaunting my wealth or something, it's just, I really--"

"Nathan, shut up, man." Warren says over him, and Nathan stops out of shock alone. The tone of voice Warren just had sends tingles through his whole body.

Warren takes Nathan's hands in his own, and looks into both of his eyes.

"This is great, really. I've ridden in a limo before, you're not taking my 'rich people' virginity, okay? This is _great._ " Warren reassures.

Nathan has the urge to roll his eyes at the phrase "rich people virginity", but what's the point? Warren was being serious and he was answering an honest question and man, he deserves all love in this world. Warren is the best person he's ever met, what the fuck?

_God, the date hasn't even started and he's already convinced he's in love._ What? No he's not. He's _not._

Family Feud plays on the television and Warren seems thoroughly interested, which is nice for Nathan, considering the other boy leans back on him while he watches, occasionally mumbling an answer to himself. It feels right. It feels natural.

Nathan's just about asleep when the limo pulls to a stop. He feels ghost movements and raises his arms quickly, ready to fight back until he sees Warren smiling up at him. _Warren doesn't even flinch anymore._

Nathan opens the limo door and climbs out of it, adjusting his suit again. He holds out a hand to help Warren out of the car, and Warren takes it. Warren's hair is slightly messed up from leaning on Nathan, but it looks good, like it should.

Nathan walks to the front of the car where Pierre is sitting and pulls out his wallet.

"I took Victoria tonight. Got it?" Nathan says, handing him a hundred dollar bill. Pierre makes a zipping motion on his lips with his hand.

"I'll call when we're ready." Nathan says and turns to head back towards his date.

The limo drives away and leaves Nathan and Warren in the parking lot of The Brevity. Dusk is slowly dissipating as stars begin to appear around them. It's quiet.

"Ready?" Nathan asks, holding his arm out once again for Warren to take.

"Of course." Warren replies and places his arm on top of Nathan's.

The Brevity is crowded when they enter it, making Nathan smirk at the fact that they have a reservation. The restaurant has high ceilings and columns that stand by every doorway, making it seem more like an art museum than a restaurant. A fountain trickles in the middle of the main room, every drop of water echoing from the walls to create a smooth and perpetual ambiance. It has to be the most elegant restaurant in at least one hundred square miles. Nathan glances over to Warren’s face as he takes it all in.

“I feel like I’m in a movie.” Warren says as they meander toward the hostess from the entrance.

“That’s vague.” Nathan deadpans.

“I’ve seen so many movies that they start to run together.” Warren replies, clearing absolutely nothing up.

The hostess asks for a name and Nathan replies, "Prescott." Her eyebrows raise and she leads Nathan and Warren to a separate room, which is completely empty save them, and gestures towards the only table set with napkins and utensils.

Nathan pulls Warren’s chair out for him like a true gentleman and gestures for him to take a seat in it. His stomach turns when Warren’s cheeks grow a bit red. This is actually happening.

The tablecloth is a deep red, and it matches the draperies dispersed about the restaurant. The napkins are folded into swans. Nathan can’t help but grin when he sees how wide Warren’s eyes are as they scope the place out. A man with almond skin and dark, swooped back hair approaches their table.

“Good evening, sirs, I’m Jesus, I’ll be your server tonight. Can I start you off with something to drink?” says the man.

“What’s your finest wine?” Nathan says, keeping his voice nonchalant as he flips the wine menu over to glance at the other selections.

“I must ask for your ID.” Jesus replies, becoming stiff.

Nathan sighs, annoyed, but pulls out his wallet and his fake ID and hands the card to the waiter. Jesus inspects it carefully, and apparently sees no fault, for he hands it back and says,

“Our Evening Land Pinot Noir is a splendid choice, if I do say so myself.”

“Awesome. We’ll take a bottle.” Nathan replies. “And two glasses.” he adds, pulling two hundred dollars from his wallet. It probably looks like he has endless money, but, well, he does.

“As you wish, sir.” Jesus says, slipping the money in his shirt pocket and walking away.

“How the fuck did you pull that off?” Warren asks as soon as Jesus leaves the room.

“Mr. Graham, where are your manners?” Nathan tsks, smirking when the other boy rolls his eyes. “Waiters at fancy restaurants are gold diggers. They’ll do anything for some Benjamins.”

“Shit, I’d do anything for a few Benjamins now and then.” Warren replies.

Nathan slips that memory in his brain’s pocket to take advantage of later. _The things he could do…_

Jesus returns with the bottle of wine and two glasses. He sets them down on the table gently and unscrews the cork with a corkscrew. Nathan watches Warren stare at his glass while Jesus pours. _Oh God, has he ever tasted wine before? Maybe this was too much for a first date._ Nathan gulps at the phrase “first date” which fades from his mind like an echo.

“Can I interest you in an appetizer? Perhaps our Toasted Brioche Rounds with Creme Fraiche and Caviar?” Jesus says, leaning over Warren’s shoulder and pointing to the item on the menu.

“Sounds splendid. We’ll take an order, please.” Nathan replies, pulling his best “richie” smile, which Jesus returns warmly before leaving them to their wine.

“You sure put on a face for ‘em.” Warren says as he takes a sip of the wine. His face scrunches up.

“Fuckin’ knew that’d happen.” Nathan can’t help but laugh. “It’s an acquired taste. You’ll get used to it.”

Warren glares at him and takes a gulp without flinching. His eyes twitch a little, though. Nathan leans over the table and takes the glass from him.

“I am not suffering through this date if you’re gonna be drunk.” Nathan says. When did he turn into a father instead of a handsome young bachelor? _No, his father would never say anything like he just did._

“I’m fine.” Warren grins, his words slower than usual. Fucking _already?_ Lightweight.

“Yeah, yeah.” Nathan replies, taking a small sip from his own glass like a fucking pro.

Nathan drags his eyes away from his date _(holy shit, his date)_ and focuses on the menu for the first time this evening. He doesn’t really feel like eating, but then again, he never does, but he as to put on an act for his company.

“Why is all of this shit so expensive?” Warren asks, scanning his own menu.

“You go to one of the most expensive schools in the country.” Nathan says, because, come on, he’s had to have seen food in the upper double digit costs before.

“Yeah, and that’s a fucking miracle, man. Half scholarship, half rich uncle. Wouldn’t have met you without it.” Warren says and his eyes widen as he glances up at Nathan to see if he noticed (he did), before correcting, “I mean, Mr. Jefferson. Amazing photographer.” _Shitty guy,_ Nathan almost says, but that’s too suspicious, too suspicious…

“I didn’t know.” is all Nathan can muster. He changes the subject, “What are you getting?”

“I was just thinking about a steak or something.” Warren replies, flipping a cloth-lined page in the menu. Nathan searches his own menu for the steaks, which have to be the cheapest thing on the menu.

“Oh, fuck off, Warren. Get like, the crab-stuffed lobster tail or something. I’ve heard that’s pretty good.” Nathan says, showing Warren the item on his menu. Yeah, it’s ninety dollars, but come on, it’s good and he’s treating Warren and he has money to spare.

“Well, what are you getting?” Warren asks, and the hair on his forehead raises slightly so Nathan has to assume his eyebrows went with it.

“Chicken Tikka Masala.” Nathan smirks. “It’s the only food I like at fancy restaurants.” _It’s addicting...and has a small portion._

“I see.” Warren says, his face skeptical.

Jesus returns with the brioche rounds and Nathan orders two glasses of water because Warren looks thirsty and he will not be chugging the wine. While the waiter is there, Nathan decides to go ahead and order for them so it can _hurry the fuck up._

“So..what’s this?” Warren asks, picking up one of the rounds and inspecting it.

“Well, on top is caviar. It’s brioche, y’know, the bread, and it’s got some creme shit on top.” Nathan says, pointing to the respective ingredient with one hand while biting into one with his other. It’s disgusting. _It’s delicious._

Warren makes a face as he bring the appetizer closer to his mouth and he touches some caviar with his tongue before letting it retract back into his mouth. His eyebrows knit together as he tries to detect a flavor. Nathan rests his chin in his left hand and lets himself smile as he watches his….date….try caviar for the first time.

“Stuff it in your mouth!” Nathan encourages.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Warren teases. He takes a big bite of it then, keeping eye contact with Nathan, who laughs when he gets a bit of caviar on his chin.

“Shuh da fuh up.” Warren demands, his mouth full. Nathan takes another bite from his round.

The food arrives just as Warren stuffs the last round in his mouth (“Who knew caviar was so good?” “I did, dumbass.”). Nathan waits until Warren swallows and wipes his mouth to take a sip of wine.

“So, Mr. Graham, tell me. What are your plans for the future?” Nathan says, bringing back his posh voice and sitting up straighter. Warren follows suit without changing his demeanor.

“I do believe I shall be a movie director, sir.” Warren replies.

“Sounds splendid. But tell me, how do you plan on achieving this dream? The film industry is so flaky these days.” Nathan questions, taking a bite of his chicken.

“I plan on going to a college in California somewhere for you see, that’s where the industry is at.” Warren replies, chomping on some crab.

“No shit.” Nathan drops his act, making Warren bust out laughing and almost choke on his food.

“Slow down there, kiddo. Make room for dessert.” Nathan suggests, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly, He takes a drink of wine.

After dinner, Nathan and Warren decide to share a molten chocolate cake and an assortment of cheesecakes for dessert. Nathan likes assortments because they're so noncommittal, and he can taste more without eating as much. Warren actually _savors_ the flavors for once instead of shoving them down his throat. The thought of feeding Warren with his fork actually occurs in Nathan’s brain and he almost does it until he remembers that this is only their first date (and that it’s fucking weird either way).

Warren wipes chocolate from his mouth with his napkin and leans back in his chair. Nathan feels eyes on him as he takes another miniscule bite from some raspberry cheesecake. Jesus walks by the doorway and Nathan calls his name, making him turn on his heels and head to their table.

“Check.” Nathan commands and Jesus pulls it from his apron and hands it gracefully to Nathan before leaving.

“How much?” Warren asks, leaning over the table to get a glance at the check.

“Noneya.” Nathan replies, swatting his head back.

Nathan leaves seven hundred dollars in cash in the check and stands. Warren scoots his chair back really slow and stands as if he is an old man.

“Full?” Nathan smirks, walking to him to grab his hand. It’s the first time he’s done it, but it feels so…. _natural_.

“Hell yeah.” Warren replies, fitting his fingers between Nathan’s.

“Ready?”

Warren nods and Nathan pulls out his phone to call Pierre. Warren squeezes his hand and makes him trip over a few words while responding to Pierre. Once Nathan hangs up, he grabs the quarter-finished bottle of wine, and he leads Warren out of the private room and back into the main part of the restaurant.

“Have a good evening, gentlemen.” The hostess smiles warmly and Warren waves back at her, causing Nathan to roll his eyes.

The limo is waiting for them when they exit the building, the fumes from the back rising into the cold air. Nathan walks to it and opens the furthest back door for Warren so he can enter first. Nathan follows behind and pulls the door shut.

It takes minutes for Warren to lean back into Nathan’s chest as 48 Hours plays on the television. Nathan takes a swig from the wine and passes it to the boy leaning on him. He can almost feel the wine travel down Warren’s throat, the way they’re lying. Warren’s ass is between Nathan’s thighs, so it’s easy for Nathan to stroke up and down Warren’s sides. When the bottle is passed again, Nathan takes a moment to grab at the fat on Warren’s hips, because he envies the fact that it feels so normal on Warren. Warren moans and turns his head so his lips are right at Nathan’s neck.

Warren mouths just above Nathan’s jacket collar, and Nathan can feel the spit slide down underneath it after a few moments. Nathan shakes his head lightly and sets the bottle down at their feet. He knows where this is going, and he’s definitely not complaining. He takes Warren’s head in his hands and pulls the leech of a boy off his neck, tugging him towards Nathan’s lips. Warren’s mouth is pretty much slack from being tipsy (or possibly even flat out drunk; Nathan didn’t really pay attention to how much Warren would swallow at a time) and it molds whichever way Nathan wants it to.

“How drunk are you?” Nathan pulls away, eyeing Warren curiously.

Warren kisses up Nathan’s jaw, replying, “I can’t be any drunker than you are.”

Warren’s voice still sounds fairly steady and he’s acting just as he normally would, so Nathan stops considering and starts acting. He threads his fingers through Warren’s hair and pulls a bit, and Nathan grins when Warren’s breathing grows heavier because of it. Nathan smirks to himself when Warren leans his head back down to suck at his Adam’s apple and suddenly it’s too hot, _too hot, too hot,_  and before he can register what he’s doing he’s pulling his suit jacket off and unbuttoning his shirt. Warren acts like a mirror and does the same, making the actions seem surreal.

Warren is shirtless and Nathan’s hands are on him, _feeling, bruising._ It’s so much different than all the other times they’ve done this, ravaged at each other like animals, because now, deep down, there’s a new layer, a fresh, new existence to what they do. It feels right. It feels new and exciting and promising.

“Please, Nate,” Warren breathes as Nathan lowers his head to a nipple and takes the tiny nub into his mouth.

Warren moans and sits up quickly, glancing toward the front of the limo.

“He’s not gonna hear us, don’t worry.” Nathan whispers, hovering above Warren’s navel.

He licks downward from Warren’s bellybutton to the hem of his dress pants, where a tent has formed in the front. Warren spreads his legs automatically, though, with the dress pants on, it doesn’t do much.

“Guess we’ll just have to take them off, then.” Nathan says, unhooking and unzipping them. He backs away to let Warren pull them down his legs and kick them to the floor. His underwear follows.

Warren’s cock is hard and thick, just as it’s always been, and Nathan takes it into his mouth without any hesitation. The sounds slipping out of Warren’s mouth are like nothing Nathan’s heard before, possibly because back in his dorm they have to watch for people passing by, but here, here there’s no inhibition.

“I wanna -- wanna….” Warren says, trailing off when Nathan licks along a vein. He pulls off.

“You wanna…?”

“Sixty nine.” Warren states clearly, making Nathan’s face light up.

“Holy shit, Graham, come take my pants off.” Nathan commands, leaning back against the leather seats.

Nathan raises his hips as Warren makes way with his pants and underwear and lowers his ass back onto the lukewarm couch, inviting Warren to take a seat, per say. Y’know, on his face.

Warren crawls up Nathan’s torso and turns his body until it somehow is well-enough positioned to get the party started. Warren lowers his head until it connects with Nathan’s dick as Nathan raises his head to suckle on the tip of Warren’s. The limo passes over a broken road and it shakes the whole car. Nathan and Warren moan simultaneously at the motion, and then again at the hum the other’s mouth made around their dicks. Warren pulls his mouth from Nathan’s dick.

“Nate, fuck me, _fuck me please,_ ah!” Warren begs, and who is Nathan to deny such a pretty boy his dick?

“Come up here, baby.” Nathan replies and Warren almost breaks his arm trying to maneuver himself faster into Nathan’s arms.

The campus is empty when Pierre drops them off, ties undone and hair messy, which is probably for the best. Warren saunters to the bench Samuel sits on sometimes and takes a seat himself, staring upward past the top of the dorm building. Nathan follows, curious as to why he stopped here instead of going straight inside like Nathan was going to. He sits down on Warren’s right.

“The stars right above the top of the dorm make Orion. He’s the highest in the sky during the winter.” Warren says, pointing with a finger at each star that makes up the constellation. “I love the stars in winter.”

_I love you,_ Nathan thinks before he can stop himself. _Whoa, what the fuck? No. No no no._ Nathan runs a hand through his hair and leans to kiss Warren on the lips.

“I’m going to bed, rocket man.” Nathan says, standing from the bench.

“Goodnight.” Warren replies, immobile.

The picture sent at 11:11 is one of a dark sky with barely visible dots instead of Warren’s asshole. Underneath it reads “Gemini”. Nathan smiles to himself as he sets his phone down and falls into a gentle slumber.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, please leave feedback about how you felt about my fic!! The support is really inspiring and helpful and it really puts a smile on my lil face!
> 
> You can follow me for unnecessary updates on how the fic is going and for more nice GrahamScott content™ at [prettyboyprescott.tumblr.com](http://prettyboyprescott.tumblr.com/)!! 
> 
> Thanks for reading!!


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